


When Angels Fall

by WhiskyInMind (MomentsLost)



Category: Angel and Leverage crossover
Genre: Anne S. & Parker, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-27
Updated: 2011-10-27
Packaged: 2017-10-25 00:20:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/269544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MomentsLost/pseuds/WhiskyInMind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The East Hills Teen Center in Los Angles is under threat of closure. The only hope of saving it may just lie with a former troubled teen...</p>
            </blockquote>





	When Angels Fall

**Ten years ago. Los Angeles, California**

Navigating the crawl spaces and the gaps between walls wasn't the tricky part, Parker thought. _Anyone_ could do that, hell even Charlie and his crew who still showed up down at the center from time to time could manage. The trick was doing it all _without getting caught_. That was one area she was always going to win out on over guys like Charlie. They liked people to notice when they walked into a room; it would never even occur to them that sometimes stealth was better.

She'd spent the day wandering around downtown evaluating the laughable security systems on some of the banks there. A year ago she'd have been in and out of those vaults with millions before anyone knew what was happening. But that was before she'd come here, before she'd met Anne.

Parker wasn't going to kid herself; she was a thief - pretty much always had been and she doubted if there would ever come a time when she wouldn't be - but right now she didn't want to disappoint the person who'd helped her out of a tight corner. After she'd left Archie behind, she'd been lost. Alone again. And somewhere along the way she'd lost the survival instincts her childhood had honed. That first night in L.A. she'd had no idea where the 'safe' parts of town were and had ended up trying to bed down in an alleyway a few blocks away. When Anne had found her, Parker had been hanging by her fingertips from the second story fire escape having just barely managed to get away the gang of thugs who'd tried to mug her. Even though it was past curfew, Anne had let her sleep at the shelter and told her that whenever she needed it she had a place here. So long as she showed up before curfew next time.

She glanced at her watch. Oops. Still, there was a back way in through the ventilation shaft that she was pretty sure no one else knew about.

As she pulled herself through the narrow brushed steel tunnel, she heard raised voices from below and suddenly there was the sound of punches being thrown and what sounded like someone hitting the wall, hard. She wanted to get down there, to help out or help break it up, but before she could she heard footsteps running and the door slam. There was a little more heated conversation before someone else apparently left, a little slower than the first person to flee but from the way he or she slammed the door no happier about it.

Parker could hear the murmur of conversation and she definitely thought she could pick out Anne’s voice. She pulled herself silently across to a nearby vent and peered down. Directly below her she could see Anne standing next to some guy in the kind of expensive suit she’d only ever seen Archie wear. Good cloth, but too likely to rustle or make some other noise that would give the wearer's position away.  
"...this fundraiser for your kids? I would hate to see them lose out because you made the wrong decision," he was saying. Was he trying to exploit the shelter or something?  
"So he doesn't have proof." Anne said.  
"He can't have proof." Anne seemed to accept that, but Parker didn't miss the pause suit-guy had made before answering her.

She waited until the guy – one of the people from that law firm that had been helping out with the fund raiser she figured – had left before dropping down in front of the not-as-shocked-as-she should-be Anne.  
"You missed curfew again Parker," Anne said with a wry smile.  
"What was all that about?"  
"Hmm? Oh, it's nothing, don't worry about it."  
"Didn't sound like nothing to me," Parker said. "Proof about what?"  
Anne sighed and put her arm around Parker's shoulder and began to lead her towards her office in the back of the shelter. ""It's nothing, honey, don't worry about it."  
"I could help, you know. I could get that proof you were talking about, if it exists."  
Anne laughed a little at that. "Yeah, I'm sure you could. I'm sure you could. Seriously, don't worry about it. I've got this covered."  
Parker frowned a little, but finally nodded. "Okay, but it you ever need... my kind of help, you know where to find me. Right?"  
"I do, honey. Thank you," Anne said. "Now, why don't we see if we can't find some place to squeeze you in for the night."

 **Now, McRory's Bar, Boston, Mass.**   


This would be a mistake. Nate could feel it in his bones. Bringing Parker to these things had never worked out well, but how could he have said no when she already knew the potential client? Especially when the smiles that wreathed her face lit up the entire apartment the moment she saw Anne Steele's photograph. It made sense in a way: Parker had been more or less on her own since she was a kid; this Anne woman ran one of the more successful shelters for troubled kids in Los Angeles. It wasn't _so_ much of a coincidence that they'd run into each other somewhere along the way.

Every time the door swung open Parker all but broke her neck craning round to see if it was her this time. So he really shouldn't have been surprised at the squeal that escaped her when Anne finally arrived. And he was pretty sure his eardrum wasn't _actually_ pierced no matter what it felt like.

Parker bounded across the room and practically bowled the woman over even before the door had closed behind her. Nate smiled a little, it was more than odd to see her this way and he took a moment to reflect on how little he actually knew about Parker's past. As he stood he noticed Sophie seated by the bar and nodded an acknowledgement. When Parker had asked - no, _insisted_ that she come to this meeting, Sophie had just smiled and agreed, but still he wasn't surprised to see her here.

The woman, Anne, wasn't particularly successful at hiding the smirk on her face as Parker led her over to his booth. "Ms Steele," he said, reaching across to shake her hand. "It's so good to meet you. Parker has told us a lot about you."  
"Anne, please. And it's all been good, I hope." She was smiling but he could see the tenseness behind the banal small talk.  
"Impressive, certainly," he said as he gestured for her to take a seat. "And all of it backed up by everything I've heard about the East Hills center. You do good work down there."  
She shrugged, a little self-consciously he thought, as if she didn't want to take credit for the work she'd put in. "We do what we can. Or... we did. Until now." He noted the use of the word 'we', so Anne was one of those who wasn't happy in the spotlight. The cynic in him thought that was a real pity; she was pretty and striking enough to hold that spotlight for far longer than the latest product of the Hollywood conveyer belt would manage. Nate wasn't surprised, however, that she'd come to the crux of the matter so quickly; most of the clients he met down here had become so focused on whatever the problem was that they bypassed all other conversation and got straight to the point. He was a little surprised however when she continued, "Parker's one of our successes. We were worried about her for a while, seemed like she got herself into a few tricky situations since she left us, but she looks like she's doing well here. Doing _her_ sort of thing has its plus point I guess."  
Nate laughed a little, wondering whether if she knew just how much she actually knew about how notorious Parker had become to insurance specialists and law enforcements she would still rank her as a 'success'. Then he saw the sparkle in Anne's eyes and saw that she knew _exactly_ what Parker had been up to in the time since they'd last met. "I guess it does at that," he said, watching her reaction with a smile.

It was only when Parker nudged Anne sharply in the ribs - and one of these days he really was going to have to talk to her about not hitting or poking people so much - that Anne seemed to focus on the reason she was here.

"Yeah, um, okay," she said and he realized that she wasn't actually all that much older than Parker herself. His admiration for her and what she was doing grew exponentially. "Right, so a while back, actually it was around the time Parker was one of our kids, we... came into a lot of money which helped us out so much. We bought out the building next to where we were, extended the dorms, paid for food for a couple of years. But..." She looked down. "We couldn't exactly say where the money came from. And now, this firm is saying it was theirs and was stolen and they want it back. We can't go to the police about this, Mr. Ford. We don't... at the time we were barely scraping by. That money meant everything back then. And now... they're going to shut down the center. These kids have nothing else. But they say the money is theirs and they can prove it."

He reached across and put his hand on hers. It wasn't unheard of: an anonymous donation to a charitable organization of the size she was talking about often came from a disgruntled member of the board. So it had taken the rest of that board ten years to catch on to what had happened; that still didn't give them the right to put a charity like Anne's out of business.

Nate took his hand back and flicked open the folder she'd given him as she sat down. He flicked through the pages; mostly copies of correspondence and notifications of intentions to sue. And then the letterhead caught his eye and his heart stopped beating.

 _Wolfram and Hart._

 **Half an Hour Later, McRory's Bar, Boston, Mass.**   


"Thank you for hearing me out, Mr. Ford - Nate," Anne said with a resigned smile. He nodded in reply and rose to shake her hand once more. "It was a pleasure meeting you."

She held the handshake a second longer than was strictly comfortable, looking directly into his eyes. Finally she nodded once and let go. "Parker!" she said as she turned away from him. "It's been so good seeing you again!"

Nate smiled as the diminutive thief hugged Anne tightly. Although Parker had been more comfortable around people lately it was still rare to see such an exuberant display of affection for her.

Anne said something too quiet for him to hear but Parker laughed happily and nodded as they parted. With one final glance towards him and one more blinding smile for Parker, Anne turned and left. When Parker finally bounced back to the booth and sat down on the booth so recently vacated by her friend ( _don’t kid yourself, Nate. Anne is so much more than a 'friend' to Parker. Mentor comes so much closer to hitting the mark_ ) he found that he couldn't meet her smile.

"So what's the plan then? When do we leave for L.A.? It'll be weird, y'know, going back there and staying at a _hotel_ , but whatever."

Nate kept his gaze on the scratched wooden table between the, and took a long sip of his coffee - now long past cold, of course - in a vain attempt to postpone telling her what he had to. He had no choice. This was one job they just could not take.

"Nate?" she said as his moment's pause began to stretch into an uncomfortable silence. "We _are_ going to L.A., right? We're going to help Anne and her kids. Right?"

He finally forced himself to look at her and slowly shook his head. "I'm sorry, Parker," he said. "I just don't think-"

She was on her feet in an instant. "No, you don't, do you? You don't think about anyone but you. Do you even what... how she... how..." Parker was blinking furiously, apparently determined not to let the tears standing in her eyes fall. "She _helped_ me. She was there for me when no one else was. You know what? I don't care what you do. _I'm_ going to be there for her."

He tried to reach for her, to explain, but he couldn't find the words.  
"I thought I could count on you," she said in an icy voice. "Guess I was wrong." She turned and all but bolted from the bar and he didn't try to stop her. How could he when she was right?

"What the hell was all that about?" Sophie was standing over him with her hands on her hips. Glaring. Nate rubbed at his forehead; wincing against the headache that had been building since he had first opened the folder Anne had brought him and seen the company logo. "We can't help her," he said in a flat tone.  
"Why not? I read the background notes; this is exactly the kind of case we normally take on."  
"I can't..." he paused, trying to put into words the dark secret in his past and knowing there was no way he could. "This law firm, it's too big. Too powerful."  
"That's never stopped you before, Nate," she countered. "You saw how much this means to Parker, so why don't you tell me the reason you don't want to touch this one."  
Nate shook his head. "You wouldn't believe me."  
"Try me."  
"No!" he snapped and cringed back at the tone of his own voice. "Sophie, just... please trust me on this. Wolfram and Hart are untouchable. We are _not_ taking this case and that's an end to it." Her eyes flashed with anger and he actually found himself leaning back away from her.

"Look, I'll... I'll explain later," he lied, hoping that maybe if he distracted her long enough he could give himself time to come up with something at least semi plausible. "But right now, I think Parker needs someone to talk to. And right now, I'm probably the last person she wants to see."

Sophie looked torn, as he knew she would be. He also knew that he'd played a winning hand - she would go look after Parker. Of course she would, it was who she was these days.  
"This isn’t over, Nate," she said as she followed after the blonde thief. He nodded acknowledgment; she was more right that could possibly now.  
"It's _never_ over," he murmured into the dregs of his coffee.

Nate counted to ten slowly under his breath before turning sideways in his seat and addressing the booth directly behind him. "You're losing your touch, Eliot."

The hitter shrugged and lowered the hood of the sweatshirt he habitually wore when he was _lurking_ in the bar. "Wasn't trying to stay hidden," he replied.  
"Is that right?"  
Eliot nodded as he slid into the seat opposite - and for a moment Nate had the absurd thought that the client meeting had somehow turned into some elaborate game of musical chairs without the music, or the fun. He suppressed the image quickly and said, "You know why we can't go up against Wolfram and Hart."  
"I do," Eliot said in that maddeningly laconic tone he used when he was waiting to hear you out before you telling you what he really thought.

Nate had no patience for that right now, not on top of everything else that had happened since he sat down half an hour ago. "Just say it, Eliot. Only, if you're going to try to tell me we should take this one despite the fact you _know_ there's nothing we can do, at least let me get a drink first."

Eliot gave him a crooked half smile and pulled his smart phone from his pocket. As he scrolled through whatever menu he pulled up, he spoke surprisingly softly. "You're right. There's nothing we can do. Not on our own." He looked up and tossed the phone to Nate. "Lucky I know someone who might just be able to help really. Make the call. Tell them Anne Steele needs their help. I'll get you that drink, I think you're gonna need it."

He stood and headed straight for the bar. Nate watched with a frown on his face as he spoke to Cora and she turned to reach for the Jameson's Gold. He looked down at the phone display. Ever paranoid - and, Nate had to admit, he had his reasons - Eliot apparently didn’t list his contacts by name and the string on letters and numbers – NKO714 - meant nothing to Nate. Wondering just who was going to pick up he hit the green 'connect' symbol and listened to the ringing on the other end of the line.

 _"Angel Investigations, we help the helpless..."_   



End file.
